Chapter 1: The Day the Bells Didn't Ring
The first sign that something was wrong wasn’t the emergency alert.
It wasn’t the screaming. It wasn’t even the blood. It was my teacher’s hands.
Mr. Harrison dropped his marker. I had never seen him do that before.
Not once.
Not in eighteen years of living.
Not in the two years he’d been teaching at Westbridge High.
The marker slipped from his fingers and rolled across the floor, tapping softly against a desk.
Nobody laughed. Nobody made a joke. Because Mr. Harrison wasn’t looking at the marker.
He was staring at his phone. And he looked terrified. A strange feeling settled in my stomach. The kind you get right before a thunderstorm. When the air feels wrong. Heavy.
Like something is waiting.
Beside me, Mia Carter stopped talking mid-sentence. That alone was enough to make me look up. Mia could talk through earthquakes. Through exams. Through funerals.
I was pretty sure she’d talk through the apocalypse.
Yet now she was silent. Her eyes were locked on her phone screen.
“Mia?”
She didn’t answer.
The classroom suddenly filled with vibrations.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Every phone in the room went off at once. Thirty students reached for their desks. The sound echoed against the walls. Confused voices erupted immediately.
“What is that?”
“I got it too.”
“What the hell?”
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out.
A red notification covered the screen.
**EMERGENCY ALERT**
**Remain indoors immediately.**
**Avoid contact with infected individuals.**
**Await further instructions.**
I blinked.
Then read it again.
Infected individuals?
“What does that even mean?” Mia whispered. For the first time all day, she sounded nervous. Mr. Harrison looked up. His face had lost all colour.
“Everyone remains calm.”
The fact that he said that made everyone panic.
Teachers only tell you to remain calm when there’s a reason not to.
A boy near the back laughed nervously.
“Is this some kind of prank?”
Nobody answered.
Because deep down...
It didn’t feel like a prank.
My phone began ringing.
Mom.
Relief flooded through me. I answered instantly.
“Mom?”
Heavy breathing came through the speaker. Then her voice.
“Luna.”
The second I heard it, something felt wrong. My mom wasn’t the type to panic.
She was the type who fixed things. Bad days. Broken hearts. Family arguments.
She always knew what to do.
But right now?
She sounded scared. Really scared.
“Luna, listen carefully.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“Stay inside your school.”
“What?”
“Do not leave the building.”
Around me, students continued talking. Laughing nervously. Checking social media.
None of them understood. I didn’t either.
Yet.
“Mom, you’re scaring me.”
“Luna.”
Her voice cracked.
That terrified me more than anything.
“If somebody is bleeding, stay away from them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Mom—”
A loud crash echoed somewhere in the building.
The entire class froze.
The sound had come from outside.
A few seconds later came a scream.
A real scream.
Not playful.
Not dramatic.
A scream filled with pure terror.
Every hair on my arms stood up.
The call went silent.
“Mom?”
Nothing.
“Mom!”
Static.
Then the line died.
No signal.
I stared at my phone.
The room had gone quiet.
Everyone had heard the scream.
Even Mr. Harrison.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Then another scream echoed through the hallway.
Closer.
Much closer.
Mr. Harrison slowly walked toward the classroom door.
“Sir...” somebody whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He placed a hand on the handle.
And opened it.
The moment the door swung outward—
A student crashed into the classroom.
Girls screamed.
The boy slammed into the floor.
His uniform was covered in blood.
Fresh blood.
Bright red.
For a second nobody reacted.
Our brains couldn’t catch up to what we were seeing.
The boy began shaking violently.
Like he was having a seizure.
“Oh my God!”
Mr. Harrison rushed forward.
Several students followed.
I didn’t.
Something felt wrong.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me not to move.
Not to get closer.
Not to touch him.
The boy suddenly stopped shaking.
Silence filled the room.
Then his eyes opened.
Cloudy.
Empty.
Wrong.
A chill raced down my spine.
The boy slowly turned his head toward Mr. Harrison.
And smiled.
It wasn’t a normal smile.
It looked hungry.
The next few seconds changed my life forever.
The boy lunged.
Mr. Harrison screamed.
Blood sprayed across the floor.
Across desks.
Across students.
Someone vomited.
Someone fainted.
The classroom exploded into chaos.
People ran.
People screamed.
Chairs crashed.
Books flew.
My brain stopped working.
I stood frozen.
Unable to process what I had just seen.
Because people don’t bite through someone’s neck.
People don’t tear flesh apart with their teeth.
That only happens in movies.
Not real life.
Not school.
Not ten minutes before lunch.
“LUNA!”
A hand grabbed my arm.
Jake Walker.
His face had gone pale.
“We need to move!”
The hallway was worse.
Much worse.
Students were running in every direction.
Teachers shouted orders nobody listened to.
Emergency alarms screamed overhead.
A girl crashed into me.
Crying.
Bleeding.
Then disappeared into the crowd.
“What is happening?” Mia whispered.
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
Another scream echoed downstairs.
Then another.
And another.
The entire school felt alive.
Like it was shaking itself apart.
Suddenly somebody shouted from the end of the hallway.
“THIS WAY!”
I looked up.
Noah Sterling stood near a stairwell.
A group of students surrounded him.
Even now, Noah looked focused.
Not fearless.
Not calm.
Focused.
While everybody else looked at the blood...
Noah was looking at exits.
At doors.
At escape routes.
Thinking.
Planning.
Surviving.
“Move!” he shouted.
The hallway behind us erupted into screaming.
I turned.
Three people stumbled around the corner.
At first I thought they were injured.
Then I saw their eyes.
Cloudy.
Lifeless.
Blood covered their mouths.
One wore a teacher’s uniform.
One was a student.
The third—
My stomach dropped.
It was the boy from our classroom.
The boy who should have been dead.
Yet somehow...
He was running.
Straight toward us.
Mia screamed.
Jake shoved us forward.
The infected teacher tackled a student near the lockers.
The sound that followed would stay with me forever.
Bones cracking.
Screaming.
Blood hitting tile.
I ran.
Not because I was brave.
Not because I knew what to do.
Because I wanted to live.
The stairwell door slammed shut behind us.
Students shoved cabinets against it.
Desks.
Anything heavy.
The banging started almost immediately.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Something wanted inside.
Badly.
Nobody spoke.
The only sound was breathing.
Fast.
Terrified.
Uneven.
Outside the small stairwell window, black smoke rose into the sky.
Far beyond the school.
Far beyond our neighbourhood.
Sirens echoed in every direction.
Hundreds of them.
Maybe thousands.
My chest tightened.
This wasn’t just our school.
This wasn’t just our city.
Something much bigger was happening.
Something terrible.
Jake moved beside me.
“You okay?”
The question almost made me laugh.
Okay?
People were eating people.
The world was ending.
But somehow hearing his voice helped.
A little.
Before I could answer, a younger student spoke.
His voice trembled.
“Are we going to die?”
Nobody answered.
Nobody could.
Then something caught my attention.
A movement outside the stairwell window.
I looked up.
And froze.
A girl stood on the rooftop outside.
Perfectly still.
Watching us.
My stomach twisted.
I recognized her immediately.
Emily Brooks.
A senior.
She’d disappeared during second period.
Everyone thought she’d gone home.
Blood covered her uniform.
A massive bite mark tore through her shoulder.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
Emily smiled.
Then she raised one finger.
And pointed behind us.
A chill raced through my entire body.
I turned around.
The banging had stopped.
The silence felt wrong.
Horribly wrong.
Then came a scratching sound.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like nails dragging across wood.
Another scratch followed.
Then another. Then dozens.
The barricade trembled.
Students backed away.
Fear spread through the room like wildfire.
The scratching became louder.
Closer.
Hungrier.
Then I saw it.
A hand.
Blood-covered fingers slid through a crack beneath the door.
Someone screamed.
Another hand appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
The infected weren’t wandering anymore.
They were gathering.
And somehow...
They knew exactly where we were.
The barricade shifted.
Wood cracked.
The door bulged inward.
A horrifying realization settled into my chest.
This wasn’t an accident.
This wasn’t a riot.
This wasn’t some random infection.
The world we knew was gone.
And it wasn’t coming back.
The barricade exploded inward.
Students screamed.
The door burst open.
Blood-covered hands reached through the darkness.
And for the first time in my life—
I truly understood what fear felt like.
Then something grabbed my ankle.
And dragged me backward.
